Snap
by CrystallicSky
Summary: Sometimes, the mind can only take so much before...CHACK, ONESHOT


**Snap**

**By: CrystallicSky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown, or any of the characters in it.**

**Warning(s):This story contains gratuitous violence of a nature that is inappropriate for younger readers, along with strong hints of male/male, non-platonic interaction; If you are under the age of 18 or are easily offended/frightened, it is recommended that you do not read the following tale. That said, I feel like the person who narrates those mature content warnings on violent TV shows or something. :D**

**Notes: This...is...well, I don't know how to describe it to you, or even how to assure you of my sanity(of which I am often unsure of myself) after having written this, but this idea floated through my head about a month ago, and I decided to ignore it in favor of finishing Ch. 12 of Kitavra, but now that that's finished, the idea has come back to pester me, and I don't think it'll leave me alone until I write it, and so here we are. If you've read the warnings and think you can handle it, which you probably can, I implore you to read on and hopefully enjoy the story!**

He was next.

Chase was one-hundred percent sure that he was the next target because of one simple fact: There was no one else left.

It had been a gruesome week, a week that no one had seen coming, not in a million years would anyone have predicted that...no, it had been obvious, but it had gone unacknowledged, had been disregarded because no one had_ wanted_ to see it, but the signs had been there, that was for certain. Of course _now_, it was far too late to change anything, but then hindsight is twenty-twenty, isn't it?

Staring at the sunset outside his castle, seeing, but not really _seeing_, the colors blend in a warm display of reds, yellows, and pinks, Chase couldn't help but wonder how he would meet his end. It was a detached line of thinking, as if he wouldn't _really_ be killed, but it was almost inevitable now. After all, had not even Hannibal Bean already been sliced to ribbons? Had Wuya not been decapitated? He had already resigned himself to his fate at the hands of this thing, and now it was just a matter of time before-

"Hi, Chase."

The man froze, muscles tensing at the voice as he turned to face the intruder. "You've come for me now, haven't you?" There was no fear in his words, nor any emotion at all.

The red-head smiled, ruby eyes glittering with the setting sun as he slipped a hand into his jacket. "We both knew this was coming, Chase. It's your turn now." With that, the hand extracted itself from the folds of black leather, only now gripping a sharp, silver blade that glinted dangerously as it was held within clenched, pale fingers.

"I understand, Jack. Do your worst."

"My worst? Oh, no, Chase, you get the best." Jack had moved closer to the man, and the two were now separated by an inch or two at best as the teenager appraised Chase's expression. "You're calmer than the others were." he finally remarked.

The warlord scoffed, "Because I'm not crying or begging like them? I don't fear death, Jack, I'm no coward."

"No, of course not! Chase Young wouldn't be afraid of anything, would he? I was just pointing out that you actually seem okay with this."

Chase was silent, choosing his words carefully before deciding, "I've accepted my destiny."

Jack grinned, stating, "You could get away, you know, if not overpower me entirely. I mean, you have magic and a physical advantage over me; all I've got is a knife."

"_Wuya_ had magic. _Clay_ had a physcial advantage. And yet, they're dead anyways, aren't they? No, Jack, I know you won't stop until you've killed me, even if I try to escape."

"Well, then," Jack considered, "you could just kill _me_. That would solve the whole problem, right?"

Chase shook his head. "I won't kill you."

"Oh." The teenager glanced at the ground briefly before reestablishing eye-contact, red to gold. "Well, there's nothing for it, I guess."

A sharp pain sliced across his wrist, and Chase hissed as blood began steadily flowing from the open wound. It was less than a few seconds before the same treatment was administered to the opposite wrist, and the man found himself lightly pressed to a nearby column. Acutely aware of the red substance already draining quickly from his body, it dawned on him what Jack was doing. "You're going to bleed me dry, aren't you?"

The teen giggled, complimenting, "Wow, that's the first time anyone's guessed it so early! But you always were the smart one, right?"

Chase sighed. "Tell me something: why are you doing this, Jack?"

The arch of an eyebrow as red eyes looked at him challengingly. "How can you be sure this isn't just revenge?"

"No, not revenge. If you wanted that, you could have done it without killing anyone."

Jack smiled again, admitting, "You're right. To be honest, _I_ don't even know why I'm doing it, I just know it has to be done."

Despite the fact that he was being supported by both a column and Jack's body against his, Chase felt his world spin and the ground shift beneath him. With a quiet groan, he fell forward onto his tormentor, closing his eyes to try and get his bearings.

The teen chuckled knowingly. "Dizzy? You've certainly lost enough blood for that by now."

Opening his eyes, a foggy golden shade now, but not finding the strength to push himself back into an upright position, Chase prompted, "Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"Hm?" Chase couldn't see it, but could hear enough to imagine the baffled expression on the red-head's face. "For what?"

"For helping to turn you into..._this_." His voice had filled with regret by now, regret and sadness that had no doubt been building up in his heart for _much_ longer than just a week.

"And what is _'this'_, Chase?" the teen questioned.

The man blinked sharply as the ground went out of focus for a minute, swallowing a lump in his throat. "A monster."

Jack laughed condescendingly, pushing Chase back up against the column. "Wow, you must've lost more blood than I thought; you don't know what you're saying."

Through the haze that had overtaken his mind, the man felt the pointed tip of the knife press lightly into his abdomen. His body was too weakened to escape now, even if he had wanted to. "This is it?"

"This is it." Jack confirmed. "I love you, Chase." Without any warning, the red-head then softly pressed his lips to those of his idol in a gentle kiss, the last either would ever have.

For a moment, Chase's eyes widened at the unexpected action, before he kissed back as fiercely and passionately as he was able, burying the fingers of both hands in the teen's short hair. Releasing his every last emotion into the kiss, the man couldn't help but wish this whole thing could end differently, that everything, for once, could be like a fairy tale, with a perfect happily ever after. The wish was short-lived, but that gave it no less meaning, even as the icy metal blade was forced deep into Chase's stomach.

He gagged, feeling blood fill his throat, and for the first time since this started, he was afraid. Not of dying, no, but afraid that now, Jack would never know the true depth of actual affection he'd held for him, the respect, the _love_. Yes, despite everything, he had loved the boy, but now, Chase thought as blackness began to invade his every sense, he would never get to tell him so, would never get to say how much he...really...

Jack pulled away from the man who now sagged completely limp against him, pulling him gently to the ground and laying him flat on his back. His own lips, bloody from the kiss, formed a soft smile as he lovingly stroked Chase's long, dark hair, noting with a skirl of happiness that he actually looked more peaceful like this than he _ever_ could have in life, so unlike how the others had gone...

Blood from Chase's wrists had run down his face from eye-level, now making it look like the teen was crying as he once again raised his knife, only this time so that the tip lay just at his own heart. "It'll be all over soon..."

Images of this past week flashed through his mind; Hannibal cut into pieces, Wuya headless, a vivisected Dojo, Kimiko with her head sliced in two, Omi stabbed in the back, Clay violently poisoned, and, of course, Raimundo, his throat slit and his lungs torn out. Chase had just joined their ranks, bled and then pierced through the middle, and now Jack would be joining _him_ in death. He had planned it perfectly; they would die here, and then they could be together forever.

Jack grinned, real tears now joining the tracks of blood on his face as he thought that.

"Forever..." In one deft motion, the blade was thrust straight through his heart, and Jack fell forward onto Chase's body. With his last breath, the dying youth was able to once again mutter the words, "I love you" to the man who had already met his fate.

And then it all went black.

**A/N: Um...Yeah, I'm sane, really! It's just...you know, I've never cried while writing a story before, and that's still true, but I've NEVER teared up while writing either, but it's finally happened, and right at Chase's death-scene...not that I wasn't tempted at Jack's, too, but it was most intense at Chase's. Well, in case you don't know what's going on by the title and/or summary, this is set around the idea that Jack has mentally snapped and gone insane. He doesn't acknowledge that what he's doing(killing) is wrong because of this, and the homicidal insanity has driven everything to this end. I actually didn't know if I could write this because I've never actually written in this genre/mood before, excluding the two minor death-scenes in Kitavra so far, of which I never really felt...well, I never really FELT them at all, they were just scenes that happened to have people dying in them, not really tragic at all, but I think this turned out well for that element, and that said, I'm pretty pleased with it. It's not fluff, it's not happily ever after, it's not mary-sue, but it IS. I like that about it, and I can only hope you like it some extent, too.**


End file.
